Tarass remembered Twilla from his time here and she was right. His dad had told him to trust Twilla above all else. That she knew things about the MacFiere clan, things she had given her word would remain unspoken. And she had kept her word to Tarass’s annoyance.
“The snowstorm is too dangerous to send the men out to retrieve the body,” Tarass said.
“If it is too dangerous for your men, then it is even more dangerous for others. The body will be left undisturbed and buried even deeper than it already is.”
“I want to think that, but I can’t be sure. What if he wasn’t alone? What if others search for him?”
“Unlikely in this snowstorm,” Twilla assured him. “Where had you gone and why wear the garments of your mum’s people?”
“I had trading talks with a tribe and with the weather turning bad, I didn’t stop to change my garments,” he explained, something he didn’t do often, feeling he owed no one an explanation for anything. But Twilla had sacrificed for the clan and his da had talked about rewarding her upon their return home.
“An excuse,” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “You prefer those garments over Highland garments. You do your da a dishonor by not wearing his plaid.”
“I had forgotten how outspoken you are,” Tarass said with a slight shake of his head.
“At my age, what difference does it make?” she said with a grin, sending her wrinkles folding into each other.
“How do you get Rannock to tell you things he shouldn’t,” Tarass asked curious she had gotten his friend to talk.
“I told him I’d find him a wife within a moon circle.”
Tarass nodded. “Another thing I had forgotten… how you match people.”
“It’s a gift the heavens gave me. I know when I see people who are meant to be together.” A sadness filled her face. “And I know when people are not meant to be together. It’s a shame when two people, who are wrong for each other, are forced to wed. Unfortunately, it happens more often than not.”
“So who is meant for Rannock?” Tarass asked.
Twilla smiled. “When the time is right, I’ll let you know.” Her smile grew. “I knew as soon as I saw your mum and da together that they were perfect for one another.”
“They did love each other,” Tarass said, recalling memories of them. “They were always holding hands, smiling, laughing, whispering to each other. They had something special.”
“Love. They were deeply in love. I’m sorry you lost them both, but one would have never wanted to live without the other,” Twilla said.
“I know. I thought the same when I found them. The attack had been brutal. I don’t know how my mum and da found the strength to crawl to each other and grasp hands, but they did.”
“Love. Love gave them strength.” Twilla sniffed back a tear as she stood and walked around the table. She placed her hand on Tarass’s arm. “Eat and rest, tomorrow is another day and hopefully the heavens will let me wake tomorrow.”
Tarass laughed. “You’ve been saying that for as long as I can remember.”
Twilla chuckled. “And I’m grateful the heavens have listened and continues to grant my request.”
Tarass watched the old woman amble off, her gait not as slow as one would think for her eighty years.
“Tarass,” she called out as she continued to the door. “So you are aware… you’ve already met your future wife. It’s a perfect match you’ll make, just like your mum and da.”
Tarass stared after her, too stunned by her words to respond. His marriage would be a beneficial one, nothing like his mum and da’s loving marriage. He wanted power and wealth. It was key to surviving in this harsh world.
Love had done little for his mum and da, though he had to admit he envied what they had shared. He had never seen anyone love with the strength and honor as his parents had. And he sometimes had wished he could find a love with the courage and conviction like theirs. But love such as theirs was rare and did not come along that often.
You’ve already met your future wife.
Twilla’s prediction had him glancing in the direction Snow had gone, and he shook his head. “Impossible. We’d kill each other.”
He walked off, continuing to shake his head.
Chapter 8
“The wound does well as do your other less harmful wounds,” Runa said.
“I appreciate you tending them.” Snow closed the soft wool robe, that had been left on the bed for her, more tightly around her.
“I have heard what a talented healer your sister Willow is, I would love to meet and talk with her.”
“I am sure she would enjoy visiting and learning from you.”
Runa laughed softly. “I would be the one who learned from her. When Lord Winton, Tarass’s father, announced that he and his family would be returning to Scotland, he invited anyone interested in joining him to become part of Clan MacFiere. Tarass had made strong friendships and many young warriors chose to go because of him. while I had no thought to leave my home. The old healer who taught me urged me to go and learn the healing ways of this land, and return with new knowledge. I arrived with the second group who came here. Already I miss home.”